LOGAN: The Shadow and the Pen Dragon

By Susan Lute

Civilization has gone to hell by way of greed, thirst for power, and a comet that came too close to the planet. What is left is a post-apocalyptic world where Darwin changelings emerge from hiding and what remains of humanity struggles to reclaim their former glory. 

After her family is brutally murdered by mercenaries, al

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Dragonborn Chronicles
• Release date: Nov 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9780998102993

Susan Lute

Bold, brave, heartwarming romance.Susan is an award-winning author of contemporary romance and women's fiction. Like all children of military families, she spent much of her childhood moving from one duty station to the next. Did it turn her into a nomad? Heck yes!, she says. Along the way, she acquired a love of ancient history and myth, and admits to collecting way too much useless information. She writes whenever she can. Contemporary romance and dragons are her thing. When not writing, her favorite Zen moments are spending time with her family and friends, reading, watching movies, gardening, taking pictures of nature and architectural marvels, traveling, and remodeling the house that after thirty years, is finally starting to feel like home.

Book preview

Preface

Civilization has gone to hell by way of greed, thirst for power, and a comet that came too close to the planet. What is left is a post-apocalyptic world where Darwin changelings emerge from hiding and what remains of humanity struggles to reclaim their former glory.

After her family is brutally murdered by mercenaries, all Beyla wants is to disappear into the last shadow forever. But the Pen Dragons, one in particular, have other plans than to leave her to a fading solitude.

Logan Pen of the Dragonborn needs the shadow walker’s reported knowledge to find an ancient weapon of incredible destructive power. When she steals his treasure and by dragon law becomes his mate, he’ll have to use all his skills as commander of the Pen fighting machine to convince Beyla that revenge won’t help her forget her loss and it certainly won’t bring back her family.

One thing is clear. Logan and Beyla don’t have a choice. Fighting a desire that quickly flames out of control and scrambling to bring peace to a weary world, in a race against time and a ruthless enemy, Dragonborn and shadow walker—enemies since the time of the Morgani dragon slayers—must face sacrificing everything they hold dear in order to keep the Firestone out of the hands of an enemy who would use it to crush and rule what’s left of the inhabitants of Mother Earth.

Chapter One

Summer Solstice, June 2021.

At twenty-five, as a delivery nurse at the local hospital, Idella Landers had delivered her share of babies. But as she had come to find out, some births were more special than others.

The small, slender, blue dragon tattoo on her right ankle started to burn. It was time. Anticipation, with a large dose of trepidation thrown in, had her hands shaking as she silenced the harried newscaster and then grabbed the last of her already packed bags.

Warnings of massive flares caused by an alignment of the sun and her planets with a black hole in the middle of the Milky Way had been broadcasting for the past two days. Around the globe, people panicked. As she watched in sick captivation, citizens rioted in the streets. Mobs smashed into supermarkets and stores, carting away as much as they could carry.

Heart pounding in her chest, biting back panic, Idella concentrated on the task at hand. There was only one thing that mattered now and that was the birth of these babies. Locking the house for what she prayed wouldn’t be the last time, she loaded the supplies she’d stored in the garage into the back of her truck. Pointing the older Ford in the direction of the towering, craggy mountains surrounding the town of Destiny, she nudged sunglasses into place as a defense against the blistering hot sun.

Thirty knuckle-biting minutes later, she parked in the circular drive of a stone mansion that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of fairy-tale European castles.

The wind howled, snatching at her coat as though to hurry her along. Dark clouds hovered overhead. Instead of the short span of thirty-five years since it’d been built of stone from a nearby granite quarry, Dragons Walk stood tall in a notch between two sharp crags as though it had been nestled there forever.

The front door burst open. A frantic man pitched himself down the stone steps. You must hurry!

As he grabbed as many of her bags as he could carry, the wind played with his already tousled black hair. A shiver worked its way up Idella’s spine at the thick worry coloring his voice.

She tried one last time to change his mind. Abigayle should be at the hospital.

Since his response was an impatient shift of her bags, Idella took a steadying breath. All right. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ve been preparing for this for nine months.

The contractions are coming every three minutes.

That happened fast. She frowned, quickly following him into the house.

Abigayle says they’re in a hurry.

A scream rent the air.

Shit! she sprinted up the elegant, sweeping staircase leading to the second floor. Despite being laden with most of her bags, Daniel was hot on her heels.

In the master bedroom littered with heavy furniture befitting a castle, Abigayle’s sky-blue eyes latched onto her husband. He’s coming.

Are you sure it’s a he? Idella attempted to distract the laboring woman as she took one of the bags from Daniel.

Yes! I can feel him, Abigayle shouted, her usual serenity unraveling.

Well, tell him to wait a second. Idella tossed the bag she carried on the table they’d previously set up for her supplies, yanking out a sterile gown and gloves.

He won’t. Wait. Abigayle grunted, involuntarily bearing down before catching her breath and screaming.

Idella cursed, spreading additional protective layers of towels on the bed around the woman about to give birth. Daniel, make her breathe.

Just like we practiced, Abi.

Abigayle shook her head back and forth, sweat trapping the damp hair straggling around her face. No.

Idella held back a second to let Daniel sit on the bed next to his wife. He picked up her hand, unwinding the fingers clutching the sheets. Look at me, Abi.

The contraction waning, Abigayle eased into the mound of pillows at her back, meeting her husband’s steady gaze.

It never failed to surprise Idella how intimately attuned her friends were to each other.

I love you. His voice vibrated with deep emotion.

Immobilized by a brush of wistfulness at not having started her own family yet, Idella almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Blue flame gently licked the couple’s laced fingers.

Another contraction, Abigayle gasped, her body stiffening.

Daniel tossed Idella a worried look. She nodded her readiness.

On a ragged sigh of relief, Daniel turned back to Abigayle. Okay, love. Breathe with me.

Together they hissed through he-he-ho-ho like any other about-to-be new parents.

Checking the baby’s progress, Idella patted her patient’s knee. It was time for the first of five babies to be born. You’re doing great, Abigayle. Next time you can push.

Here. He. Comes.

Okay, when I tell you, push. She thinned the muscle holding the baby in, stretching it around the little guy’s emerging head. Thick black hair pasted with amniotic fluid came first. Holding her breath for just a second, she watched the miracle of birth that always clogged her throat with joy. Now, Abigayle. Push.

The walls of the stone house shook. Lights flickered before everything went completely dark. Somewhere in the recesses of the building, a generator kicked on bringing the lights back.

The solar flares have begun, Daniel ground out, almost totally absorbed in his wife’s battle. The house will withstand the quakes that will come too.

He shifted, easing Abigayle onto his shoulder, mumbling, the gravel in his voice thick with wonder, Five will be born on the night the world burns.

Idella tossed him a look. She didn’t have time for a lesson in the prophecies. Push, Abigayle.

Seconds later, a squalling, kicking baby covered in a thick opaque membrane lay in her arms. She cut him free. It’s a boy.

With a laugh, Abigayle fell against the pillows. She looked at her husband. Logan?

Idella didn’t miss the joy glistening in his dark eyes as Daniel nodded.

Abigayle held out her hands. Let me see him.

Hang on. I’m cutting the cord now. Breaking free of the wonder of this new family, Idella wrapped the newborn in a warm llama-wool blanket. There you go. Daniel and Abigayle, meet your oldest son.

He’s beautiful, Abigayle whispered. Isn’t he, Daniel?

Yes, my love.

Actually, he was a little small, as she expected. But, from the way he was squalling, and with his color high, he would do. His father’s genes would give him the extra strength he needed to survive his birth and the early days of life without too much trouble.

That was just the beginning. Before the night was done, with the moon looming large in the sky where it settled into a new orbit, four more babies made their way into a world that was breaking apart at the seams. All five bore the mark of their ancestry.

As dawn broke, and Idella clamped the last quint’s umbilical cord, a deluge of comets, along with the ill-fated alignment with the center of the Milky Way, forever changed the course of human history, fulfilling one set of prophecies, and pushing what was left of humanity toward another.

Later, those who survived swore they saw a dragon-shaped comet streak across the fiery sky.

For Idella, the struggle to bring on the promised millennium of peace held as much uncertainty for the coming years as the birth of the five half-dragons, half-humans she’d just attended. Everything had changed, and as much as she wished it hadn’t, there was nothing humanity could do but survive.

Thirty-three years later—

Logan Pen slipped out of the lusty crowd milling along the sidewalk and into a bar on New Bourbon Street that was only a decibel quieter. It demonstrated a sense of irony that the newest owner had named the place The Pirate’s Cove. In Orleans six hours and half that time in the partially duplicated French Quarter from old legend, already he’d picked up a tail.

The dragon, tail circling around his right thigh, sharp, piercing talons morphing into an undulating body of blue-green scales arching over his hip and ending on the flat of his stomach burned in warning. The fierce snout breathed powerful flames that could have been real, if not for the fact it was his birthmark.

A shadow, an indistinct inky blot edging stealthily around the crowd of partying humanity filling Bourbon Street, followed him into the overcrowded bar. The dank stench of dark caves crept toward him. His pulse shot up. He’d never hunted an Umbra before. This would be his first capture.

Letting his lips twist into a rare smile, he found a seat in the darkest corner of the room. The game was about to begin. He looked forward to his first skirmish with a shadow thief. Around him, glasses clinked. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke and unwashed bodies fought with one another. Raucous laughter competed with the Vid screen airing the first World Soccer match since twenty-twelve. Voices raised in debate over the new Global Union’s chance of survival roared at the first goal.

A girl with an obscene number of colorful bead necklaces covering her bare, ample breasts came to take his order. What can I get for you, Duckie?

A Hurricane will do.

Resting a shapely hip against the table, she winked at him. That all you want?

Yes, ma’am.

Pity. If you change your mind, I’m Camille.

Logan allowed himself a slow perusal of her assets, all the while his dragon senses invading the shadows around him. I’ll keep that in mind, Camille.

When she left to get his drink, a brief shimmer appeared to his right. A pure human would never see it.

He looked the other way. Come closer, thief.

Fire danced in his heart at the impending battle, which he would win, of course. His vision sharpened into crystal clarity. The stale smell of humans desperate to survive separated themselves from the Darwin changelings of which a few were hanging on the fringes of the human crowd.

His dragon strained to break free of his human half.

Faster than flame sparking in dry tinder, he grabbed for the moving shadow, capturing a slender arm. Surprised at what his dragon half discovered, Logan watched the shadow take human form. This one smelled like a female. Clean. Musky. Dangerous. Not what he expected. From his forsaken dragon lessons, he thought the Umbra were neither male nor female.

Her hair was a dark, fiery red, whispering feathers surrounding a face that seemed cut from ancient porcelain. Delicate brows drew together over emerald eyes spitting fury. Her slender body jerked away, rigid with disbelief.

Let go of me, human.

Did it matter that his prize was female? Logan studied her beautiful face. He would take what he could get. I don’t think so.

Let. Me. Go. And, when he didn’t comply, Now.

Did she know he was Dragonborn?

Music throbbed loudly around them. In answer to her demand, he tugged sharply, sprawling her lightweight across his lap. She was stronger than her fragile frame promised.

No one in the bar noticed when he flipped her so she sat nose to nose with him, her delicate wrists manacled behind her back. All was fair in war. This wasn’t the real thing, but close enough.

Firm breasts arched against his chest reminding him just how long it’d been since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman. As he went hard, the Umbra’s fathomless eyes widened in sudden awareness.

Too bad this wasn’t the right moment to act upon the flash of pulsing desire. Getting intimate with a species still hidden in the murky mists of mythology, and who were his kind’s sworn enemy, wasn’t in the cards. Not today, anyway.

She fought his iron grip, the fierceness of her attempt to escape barely disguising panic. The heat of a rising flame engulfed them before he quelled his dragon.

Not a monster, Logan eased his hold, commanding in a soft growl that had its origins in the passions of his dragon half. Be still.

Abruptly giving up the fight, the shadow woman leaned into him, pressed her lips to his, and just as his startled senses were about to give way to his dragon shouting, yeah baby!, she bit down hard on his bottom lip, momentarily breaking the lock he had on her wrists.

She leaped off his lap. He lunged after her, but found nothing except thin air and a shimmer moving swiftly out of reach.

Wait, he growled into the nothingness, then reluctantly conceded, We need you.

For a second, the shadows went still.

We? It was a whisper that came from the darkest part of his mind.

The Naga.

The dragons?

Surprise underlined the thought as it shifted through him, brushing like a lover’s breath over his dragon mark. The caress flamed his fire. His eyes narrowing, Logan ran his tongue over the wound she’d inflicted and tasted blood.

Yes. He filled the sharp agreement with the promise of retribution for marking him.

The shadow hovered a heartbeat longer. Then his quarry was gone.

A tall glass appeared before him. Your Hurricane, Duckie.

Thanks. When he dug in his pocket for payment and realized what was missing, a sharp stab of mourning for his telein sliced through him. The talisman had been forged at his birth and carried on his person at all times since he was a small boy. Grimly, he raised his glass to the shadows where the Umbra had disappeared.

We’ll meet again, thief. He took a long pull of the drink, then licked the mixture of rum and blood from where it burned his lip. You can bet on it.

Chapter Two

Breathless from her flight, Beyla Higgins moved deeper into the dark mists of the mirror image of the room she’d escaped. No human, or dragon for that matter, could follow her here.

The noise of the bar receded to muted noise, finally replaced by soothing ripples of cocooning silence. She desperately missed the sounds of her human family, but at least here, deep in the shadows, their deaths didn’t hurt so much.

As though he could still see her, the dragon man who’d managed to capture an Umbra, raised his glass in her direction.

As she swiped his blood from her lips, her skin warmed at the challenge she could read in his dark eyes. The streak of red burned her fingertips. The subtle scent of copper woke her senses from their deep slumber, disturbing the balance she worked so hard to achieve.

He would make her pay for her audacity. She fingered the trinket she’d stolen, then attempting to erase his arrogant touch, rubbed where his teeth had scraped her lips.

Ordered to follow the human, she’d never once suspected the simple assignment to be more than a trifle duty given to one who admittedly knew little of the ways of her own kind.

With little to occupy her days, except putting one foot in front of the other, surviving was all she had left. If she could find the purpose of being the sole survivor.

Beyla stared at the shiny, gold talisman, with its strange markings, nestled in the palm of her hand. It was the way of the females of her kind to be able to sense and retrieve objects of value. Even as a small child living in the human world with no idea of her birthright, she was particularly good at it.

Once her searching fingertips had brushed across the hard, round surface, it’d been impossible to leave the treasure behind. Stealing the strange medallion from the dragon man scowling in her direction ignited the first spark of excitement she’d felt in three cold years.

The gold metal heated her hand. It was the same heat that had flared between them when she’d touched her lips to his in a crazy bid to escape the steel strength of the fingers manacling her wrists.

She lifted her chin. Who are you? The question was ripped from the deepest heart of her.

I told you. His sigh contained little patience. We are the Naga.

The breath of his response, a distant echo drifting like fog on a night lit only by the moon, touched her mind. Her fingers curled into a fist, clenching the golden piece until her palm hurt.

What kind of power was this? How was he speaking in her thoughts? I know who the Naga are. You are my enemy.

She shifted deeper into the darkest shadows, far from his lightning reach. Her body became lighter, her essence, that part of her that was Umbra, connected with others of her kind. The hum of all their thoughts made order out of chaos, but not out of the emptiness that was her constant companion.

A shudder of arousal, more fierce than any she’d ever felt, worked its way into the silent place in her heart that had died along with her family and fiancé.

Meet with me.

No! I don’t trust you.

He sneered. And, for good reason. I don’t trust you, either. Nonetheless, we must talk.

Taking one last lingering look at the black-haired, black-eyed dragon in human guise, she followed the shadows out of the bar to those cast by flickering gas lamps lining the street. When she was a child living among humans, her stepfather had told fanciful stories, old fables of dragons from the Before Time. After discovering she wasn’t human, and returning to her kind, she’d heard whispers of the Naga that someday would return. She’d thought they were just stories too.

The Elders. She must tell the Elders. They would want to know the day had come. The Naga, their enemy, had indeed come out of hiding.

She searched the crowds spilling into the street to make sure the way was safe. Behind her, she felt him coming after her. Her skin sizzled with an awareness that was new and confusing. Heart racing, she glanced over her shoulder. Her pursuer was back-lit by the light from inside the bar. He shifted slightly so the building blocked a portion of the light illuminating him. On the edge of her world, he showed her his true nature.

A being of incomparable beauty gleamed and shimmered in iridescent blue-green. The dragon stretched, its tail curling up around his broad chest and neck, wings opening majestically. Flames flickered with each breath he took.

It was magical. The most phenomenal thing she’d ever witnessed. Humans partying in the crowded street didn’t seem to notice the beast preening in their midst. Familiar black eyes called her a coward. The Naga might have been right.

There had been a time when her way had been clear and her confidence in her abilities strong. Not anymore. Beyla’s stomach suddenly ached with an indefinable, elusive something she couldn’t name. Remembering how little effort it had taken for the hard-faced dragon man to capture her, she shivered.

He was hunting. Hunting those who’d been hidden for as long as any could remember. The question was, why?

At his arrogance, she shot the Naga a defiant look before slipping into the unsuspecting crowd, skimming through shadows until she’d put enough miles between herself and temptation. Until she could breathe without feeling the heat of him.

In the oldest heart of Orleans, the devastation from the earthquakes thirty-three years earlier remained unchanged. When the rumbles had finally stopped, a high plateau remained where only small, scurrying creatures dared go. Elongated shadows from the decayed ruins of the once proud buildings scattered across the landscape rose to greet her.

It was here the Elders had told her to come when she had something to tell them. She bit back the anger slipping past her restraint. Surely the appearance of the dragon qualified. Especially since, during her trek back, she’d figured out they’d known who he was when they set her on his trail.

Doubling back several times to make sure her captor wasn’t following, unreasonable disappointment warred with relief when she saw no sign of the man who could change into such a breath-stealing creature.

Warring with the raging emotions roaring back to life, she rubbed the ache forming at her temple. Grasping for logic and reason, she went quickly to the meeting place to report her night’s discovery. When she entered the room, three figures separated themselves from the darkness cloaking the ruins.

Hausa, the oldest among them, spoke first. You’ve come with news?

Beyla bowed her head respectfully. The Umbra’s Council was composed of the oldest and wisest of them. The Naga are here.

So, the prophecies are beginning to unfold. Before she could form a response, Hausa stood before her.

You made contact. Basalt joined him, his observation the whisper of dark wings in flight.

Where you said I would. Beyla described her encounter, all except the part where she’d taken what was no longer his. She frowned. He dragged me out of the shadows. How was he able to do that?

Ebony, their greatest seer, shrugged, a spare shift of shoulder only another Umbra would see. The Naga are clever. And they require the services of a shadow thief. A female is the only one who can fulfill that need. Perhaps because you have lived as a human, he was able to sense your presence.

Ebony held out a long-fingered hand. You acquired something of value.

Beyla didn’t question how Ebony knew what she’d done. In any case, the Umbra were everywhere and because of that, shared vast knowledge. An uncomfortable flush warmed her as she handed over the strange, glittering medallion she’d stolen.

Ebony turned it over, examining it closely. He will not like that you have taken this from him.

It was Ebony who’d found Beyla balanced on the razor edge of insanity, about to give in to the misery and loneliness of her grief. It was Ebony who’d told her who she really was, then brought her back to the land of the Umbra. And Ebony, the shadows whispered, who knew things few else did. Had secrets she shared with no one.

Why will he care? It is but a piece of metal. And not like anything I’ve seen humans use for trading.

The dragons guard their treasures fiercely.

Even as a niggle of excitement she couldn’t keep banked coursed through her, she resisted the Elder’s wisdom. It has value then.

Ebony rubbed the markings with her thumb before returning the talisman. Only to the one who carries it. It is a telein. It brings its bearer good luck and protection. The dragon most likely values it highly. He will demand its return.

Beyla had no intention of giving this telein back. She stared at the golden circle cocooned in the palm of her hand. It emanated a warmth that comforted her and confounded her at the same time.

She’d taken the treasure. It belonged to her now. What does it mean, the Naga coming?

The Elders looked at one another for a long silent moment, then nodded. Hausa turned an impassive gaze on her. The Umbra are dying.

Shadows that had lived from the beginning of all things stirred around Beyla as though in pain. How is that possible?

Humans, outsiders even among the humans, have found a pathway into our world.

How? And why would our sworn enemy help us?

Suddenly afraid at the worry that crept into the Elders’ ageless eyes, she stared at the piece of metal warming her hand as though trying to warn her.

We don’t know how the pathway was opened. Those who cause us harm, look for a device of great power. Ebony gently curled Beyla’s fingers around the gold metal. If these humans find this weapon they will use it to destroy what is left of their world. After that, they will turn it on the Naga’s lair, and lastly the Umbra.

The medallion burned in her fist. Will they find it in the land of shadow?

Time stood still for the briefest second as Ebony’s emotionless mask broke, revealing a determination Beyla had never seen. No.

When time resumed, the whisper of Ebony’s words stroked Beyla’s unsettled nerves with gentle sympathy. You know how to navigate the human world as no other Umbra does. You hold the dragon’s treasure. If he and his kinsmen want to stop this evil, he has no choice but to bargain with you.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Beyla smothered her rising panic. I don’t want to go to this dragon.

You must. For the sake of our kind. For the good of the ones who struggle to survive in this new world.

She bowed her head and swallowed hard. What should I do?

Hausa eased away. Meet with this Naga and his kinsmen.

How will I find them?

The Elders shifted into shadow.

A meeting will be arranged. The rustle of Basalt’s barely discernible words floated back to her.

She looked around the room formed from shadow. The Umbra, living beings humans did not know existed, and had no idea were sentient, had endured since the beginning of time itself. They were her only family now.

The Elders’ assertion that the Umbra were